


My Life Would Suck Without You

by cordelianne



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordelianne/pseuds/cordelianne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim recovers from a risky mission and how Bones directs his you-almost-died-you-idiot rage.<br/><b>Warnings:</b> Cheap and tacky, Jim calling himself James T. Kirk, Door Number One.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	My Life Would Suck Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to [](http://graceandfire.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://graceandfire.livejournal.com/)**graceandfire** for her awesome beta!!  
>  Written for [](http://savoytruffle.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://savoytruffle.livejournal.com/)**savoytruffle** who was in the mood for schmoopy romantic Kirk/McCoy so I wrote her a kinda porny fic?! But hopefully one that is also the Kirk/McCoy version of romantic. Heh, I hope you like it babe!

It’s fucking freezing.

Jim would totally complain to Bones about the temperature he keeps his quarters at if he had the energy.

He checks. Nope. He really doesn’t have the energy.

And why are they in Bones’ quarters anyway? Jim’s are bigger. And _warmer_.

As feeling creeps back into his legs, he remembers _exactly_ how he got here. And really... he can’t complain.

Bones dragged him here by the shirt collar.

Dragged him and yelled at him, actually.

Yelled at him instead of praised him – okay, that part he _can_ complain about. He had just pulled off a brilliant, if he says so himself, rescue of a civilian ship under attack by five Birds of Prey. Five! Suuuure, some had said it was a suicide mission or had only a 0.0329% chance of success but what do paranoid doctors and logical Vulcans know?

Not as much as James T. Kirk.

But Jim will admit that Bones knows how to direct his you-almost-died-you-idiot rage in a constructive manner.

Oh, does he ever.

Rage had Jim up against the wall. Hard.

Then over the sofa. Frantic.

And on the bed. Slow, but unrelenting.

Jim never wants to move again and he’s okay with that. Except for the fucking cold.

Fine, he thinks he can move his mouth. “Sold,” is what comes out.

But it’s good enough because, without moving anything else, Bones reaches out an arm and grabs something – at least Bones exhausted himself too. A blanket lands on them both. From beneath this shared blanket Jim hears muttering about whiners.

“It’s your fault,” Jim mumbles back, face still covered. Like he can actually move his arms yet.

The blanket is yanked off his face. “ _My_ fault?” The eyebrow is scarily high.

“That I’m cold.” Jim tries out his most winning smile.

It continues its losing streak with Bones. “You’re a big boy who almost got himself killed by a battalion of Klingons, deal.”

“You’re right, I am big.” He leers.

It’s cheap and tacky but, hey, sometimes that’s how James T. rolls.

Bones rolls his eyes and then rolls on top of Jim. “Jim?” It’s his ‘serious doctor’ voice.

“Yeah?”

“Shut the hell up.”

Jim figures he can do that. It’s been a long day.

 

 

 

He wakes up warm.

Warm thanks to a blanket _and_ an even better Bones blanket.

And completely boneless.

Jim pokes Bones’ sleeping face. “I think you fucked everything out of me.”

There’s a groan and then he feels a snort against his cheek.

“I’m serious. That’s it.” He threads fingers through Bones’ hair. “No more sex for Captain Kirk. You have robbed the universe of a gift from the gods.”

“You’re an atheist.” Bones’ eyes are still closed but his stubble rubs against Jim’s cheek when he shakes his head.

Jim responds with a hand gesture of dismissal, pointless since Bones can’t see it. “A treasure of the Federation... _spoiled_.”

“Spoiled is right.”

“I’m just sayin’, you’ve turned me from a sex god into a, uh, into a eunuch!”

Bones laughs right in his ear.

Jim decides he’s laughing at the eunuch part, who wouldn’t? “I know, crazy, right? But I just don’t think I can get it up. Maybe ever!” Okay, maybe too much sex _has_ addled his brain. Bones warned him of this, just not that he’d be the cause. “Or at least nothing up today.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m sorry, Bones, but there’s nothing you can do to fix it.”

He’s suddenly looking straight in Bones’ eyes.

“That a challenge?”

“There’s no point.” Jim shakes his head and puts on his most sorrowful expression. “Nothing will work.”

Bones’ full weight settles on him again and there’s grumbling in his ear. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I’m a lost cause.” He keeps his face perfectly serious and wiggles, in no way to get them better aligned.

“For fuck’s sake, Jim,” Bones groans, “I’m a doctor, not some horny teenager or oversexed Starship captain who can have sex day and night.”

But once the complaint is registered, Bones moves on.

To Jim.

Jim’s hands are gripped and shoved roughly above his head.

Jim has no complaints at this time.

Nor does he complain about the sharp teeth on his neck.

Or the oh-so-perfect grinding.

He almost complains when Bones moves away, but that’s until he’s flipped over and his legs are spread. And when he feels Bones’ tongue on his ass? _Definitely_ no complaints.

Before going offline his brain has a brief moment to wonder if Bones is actually doing what it feels like he’s doing. Jim’s always figured Bones would object based on sanitary grounds. But that’s clearly not the case right now. Apparently he just needed the proper motivation. Good to know.

Bones’ hands grip Jim’s thighs tighter and his tongue presses deeper and, oh fuck, brain _definitely_ offline.

He’s not sure if he’s breathing.

If his eyes are closed.

What day of the week it is.

He _does_ know that he’s getting hard.

It hurts a bit. But he has no complaints about that either.

The pain just makes him harder.

“What do we have here?” Bones pulls back as he grips Jim’s cock. “Looks like you were wrong.”

“Yeah, wrong, whatever.” Jim is more than happy to ‘lose’ this one. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

Bones – who despite earlier statements – is more than ready for whatever the hell round they’re on now chooses Door Number One.

It’s a good choice.

It’s the door with the prize.

And yeah, Jim called himself the pr– “Holy _fuck_ , mmm, Bones.” Jim grasps Bones and holds on, thankful there’s still lube from last night because Bones is wasting no time in making serious inroads into Door Number One.

“Yeah.” Bones thrusts harder. “Like this, don’t you?”

Jim thinks he moans in response. Maybe.

“Like being a slut for me, don’t you baby?”

 _Fuck yeah_ , is what he thinks but “Uhhhhh,” is all Jim can manage.

Bones seems okay with that, if his next thrust hitting Jim’s prostate is any indication.

“This… yeah… harder… Bones…please.”

Jim’s going to kill someone if he doesn’t come _right now_.

Fortunately Bones is a mind-reader or something because his hand wraps around Jim’s cock. And the next thing Jim knows he’s coming and it feels so good and he may have promised to be Bones’ slut forever or something equally lame-sounding and sex-induced.

He thinks Bones is still fucking him but he’s not certain where his feet are or what his last name is.

He knows when Bones comes and collapses on him. It’s hard to miss.

Bones is heavy but even if Jim could move he’d still stay where he is.

After a few minutes, or maybe ten, Jim opens his eyes and stares at Bones’ hair. “I’m not sure this was the best way to convince me to avoid future suicide missions.” He brushes a finger over a few grey hairs threading through the dark. “Rewarding me this way.”

“Humph,” Bones sighs, Jim can feel the breath against his ear. “Like I could convince you not to be an idiot.”

Jim likes to think that the ‘brave’ part of idiot was unspoken but there.

Or hopes, anyway.

“Now will you shut up and let me sleep?” Bones grumbles, not sounding as put out as he probably thinks he does.

“Yeah, sleep.” Jim massages his fingers into Bones’ scalp.

He lies there, staring at the beige ceiling, listening to Bones’ breathing as it slows and deepens.

Lets it lull him to sleep.


End file.
